Love Me Softly
by Gilly B
Summary: Matthew had always been invisible. But what happens when a psychokinetic albino is able to look right through his ability? And what happened to General Winter's vow of revenge? Sequel to Love Me Roughly. AU, PruCan
1. Prelude

Hallo my lovelies~! :D Didya miss me? I know I said RusAme for the sequel, but it comes next. Promise. So it will go "Love Me Forever" "Love Me Softly" and "Love Me Roughly" and I might even add more. Maybe.

This is really short. But it's also just the prologue.

Anyway~ On with the show~!

Disclaimer: HAHAHAHA!

WARNINGS: Eventual PruCan, this being a sequel, cursing, and stuff.

* * *

I've never _resented_ my family, really. It's not their fault I'm invisible half the time. I just am, literally, invisible. I get lonely though. Really lonely. My Dad works at my school, and even then he never has time for me. Papa is always busy working at his new restaurant or arguing with Dad. And my brother, Alfred, always gets distracted by something or is far too energetic for me to be around without getting a headache. I'm really quiet most of the time and I don't have many friends. And I'll turn invisible at the most inconvenient times. I guess it's best if I don't have friends, or else they'd notice, since I don't have good control over my powers like Alfred does.

Alfred can be my saving grace, at times. He never lets me get _too_ lonely. He's always there for me to rant and yell at when I need it, and he'll always reply with some snarky or heartwarming comment that makes me feel better. But I'm still lonely, and sad. I hate feeling this way, but I can't change it. I can't magically gain friends. That's Alfred's job. I could never be jealous of my brother for it though. Al has always been special, and not the short bus kind of special, either, though he can certainly make it seem that way. He's like a freakin' ball of sunshine! It can get kind of annoying, but I never resent him for it. Mainly because I can see how tired it makes him. "Even superheroes can't save people _all_ the time, Mattie." I worry about him sometimes.

He can be smart when he's not slacking off. He's really good at Physics and science stuff, but he never puts any effort into it. Another way for us to not draw attention to ourselves. He's also very... open. To the point it's uncomfortable. That's not really a good thing, down south. You see, we live in the part of America called the "Bible Belt." Uh huh, just what it sounds like. And being so very openly gay, is not the most accepted things. In the city? Go for it! Who would care? Some laid back place like California or Florida? Sure, why not? But in the south? Nestled in the Appalachian mountains? In the quintessential Hicktown? Oh no. You're going straight to hell. You'll be hog tied and burned at the stake if you even _look_ homosexual. At least, that's what I thought when he first told me he was going to tell everyone at school. I was genuinely worried that he was going to die. Apparently I had nothing to worry about. Sure he got a few cat calls, and the meaner kids called him "faggot" and "cocksucker", but most of the kids just shrugged and said "Oh really? That's nice." Best damn curve ball life has ever thrown.

Not that I'd come out of my own proverbial closet. Even if people wouldn't care, it's still nice and warm and safe in here, thank you very much. I'd much rather sit in here and snuggle with the coats for the rest of my life than have to face the embarrassment. My parents wouldn't mind, seeing as they're gay too. And Alfred already knows, and no one would be upset... I'm still scared, though. I don't really know why... But this isn't about that. This isn't about any of that! This is about the time someone saw me. Really _saw_ me. It was the last thing I expected, the most terrifying moment of my life, and the best thing that ever happened to me. It was the day Gilbert Beilschmidt and his brother, Ludwig, transferred to our school.

* * *

Haha, no song for this one~

So, this took a lot of deliberating, but I've decided that PruCan fits better next. All "three"(as I don't know if I'll add more than that at this point) are in chronological order. Don't worry, you'll still see some adorable Russia-ness. You'll get to see flashbacks of all the characters growing up. In any case, the PruCan will be set in Highschool and the RusAme in college-ish. Yeah.

Sorry I've been busy! And sorry that I'll _still_ be busy. OMAIGAH. IT'S SHOW WEEK. I'll be at school until 9:30 every night this week! AH! Our first show is Friday! The 13th! So yeah. But guess what? It's getting close... to... Summer Vacation *awe* Yes! MONTHS to work on this! :D

So I've been really happy lately. I recently bought Hetalia season 3. It came with a Prussia bandana *squee* I also got America on a key chain. HAHAHA~!

BE PREPARED! I shall bestow you with the next awesomely awesome chapter... sometime next week! (Once the play is over, I'll try and reestablish my once a day updating) Kay? Kay.

ICH LIEBE DICH~

Gilly B.


	2. Prelude 2

I know! I know! *bad Gilly, bad* Gah! This is really short and I'm sorry. Not only was I busy with the FIVE FLIPPIN SHOWS of Grease, but Fernando died on me again! Meh, back to the old, really slow computer that I never get any time on. Which means... Slower updates! Yay! Innat dandy?

So... this is more of a second part of the prologue. Feh. Maybe I'll combine them later...

Disclaimer: I do not own anything... blah, blah, blah

* * *

He had been sitting in one of his favorite spots. His favorite tree inside the graveyard. During his free period, or during lunch, he would sneak off to the graveyard beside the school. He had no idea why someone would put a high school next to a graveyard, but he was grateful. It offered solace and quiet during the hectic days of school work. The days of being pushed around in the hallways, of being forgotten, even by his teachers, the days of close to complete solitude, even among the crowd, were calmed when he was able to visit his favorite graves.

These people could never talk back, never respond. But they could never forget him. They could only rest, feet beneath the earth, as Matthew prattled on about his day. He could complain to them and not worry about hurting their feelings, or tell them about menial things that no one else wanted to hear. It was his catharsis. He didn't keep a journal to set straight his emotions, instead he chatted with those that had already passed on.

It had been an overcast kind of day. The sun playing peek-a-boo behind the clouds. It was also very windy and slightly chilly, especially for a spring day, but it had been beautiful. The grass green, the trees full of leaves, birds chirping at one another, a small buttercup blossoming at his feet. It had been one of the times the sun had decided to show, with invisible Matthew resting against an old oak and surrounded by the dead, that he had first glimpsed pale white hair and startling red eyes. Red eyes that were staring right at him. And then, to further Matthew's astonishment as being seen, the boy had _waved_.

That had been the first time Matthew had seen Gilbert, and it would not be the last.

* * *

The hysteria. The intense fear coursing through his veins, demanding that he run, countered by the heavy terror that couldn't. His body was too tired to move, sleep was pulling at his eyelids. Forcing him to rest. The indescribable feeling of wanting nothing more than to get up and turn the lights on, but his body refused to move. He could only glimpse the surrounding darkness as he fell asleep. He wanted to run, he wanted to scream. The adrenalin was only enough to keep him awake for seconds. He needed to sleep, he wanted to sleep, but every little thump, every little shadow, sent him back into overdrive and thrust his mind back into the world of fear. He could only lay there and take it, waiting for the moment his eyes would fall back, waiting for the fear to dissipate.

This is how he sleeps, or more, how he doesn't. No prayers, no milk, no lullaby or bed time story. Only the fear, only the terror, only…

"Spi, mladenets moi prekrasnyi, Bayushki-bayu."

The sick and twisted inner workings of his mind conjured the old lullaby back to him. The sweet words whispered to him on dark nights like this. Through the dying lips of his mother. One would think that it would calm him down, but it only worked to make the horror of the darkness solidify.

"Ty zh dremli, zakryvshi glazki, Bayushki-bayu."

His heart rate increased to a level he didn't think possible, but he had since grown used to that. His eyes opened to the soft grass around him. He had breached new territory. He had run so far and never looked back. Wind ruffled his hair as he lay in his own bed of terror. He was paralyzed. He heard crickets chirp and frogs croak, foreign, but comforting none the less in the face of such monsters. The crickets stopped. The frogs stopped. His heart stopped. Silence reigned and the fear stayed strong, growing heavier, like a stone wedged into his chest. Then a voice floated to him in the dark.

"Big brother..."

* * *

D: Poor Russia~! Song is Cossack Lullaby and is a traditional Russian lullaby. I found it at the lovely site Mama Lisa. The parts I used translate to:

"Sleep, good boy, my beautiful,  
Bayushki bayu*,"

"But you must slumber, with your little eyes closed,  
Bayushki bayu."

*Bayushki bayu = the Russian expression to lull a baby to sleep (Kinda like "Hush-a-bye")

Grease was pretty awesome by the way. Tons o' fun. D: My hair is still recovering from the loads of hairspray I had to spray on to keep the cute little curls in my ponytail. It was still fun though. I got to punch one of my friends! :D (stage punch of course.) But anyway, I'll stop prattling...

LOVE YOU ALL. ;A; I'M STILL OH SO VERY SORRY.

Gilly B.


	3. NOTE

Okay guys, so here's how it's going down. I'M SORRY. Like, really. It's the end of the school year and I've had lots of work to catch up on. (My Physics grade is something I really need to bring up. D: ) Bah! I also, for a little bit there, had writers block. And still sort of do... And I need your help!

I have a proposition. First, I ask, did you like to story in first person or third better? Second, I ask, would you mind if I left this and worked on it later? I'm not abandoning it! Far from it! I just… Want to make RusAme the second story, alright? Like I originally planned. I know I keep going back and forth on this, but I think  
RusAme would fit better. I already have the first chapter typed up… I just need your opinion on whether or not you would like if I continued this or the RusAme first. I'll go on ahead and post the first chapter so you can have a taste of it. I'm going to post a poll on my profile about first vs. third person, kay? Mostly cause whether or not RusAme or PruCan is the sequel depends on my muses... In any case the RusAme thing is called Love Me Roughly... But really…

I'M SO SORRY!

Tell me whacha want watcha really really want…

With love,

~Gilly B.


End file.
